Books Can Be Deceiving (8 page)

But Beth wasn’t going to be diverted. She stood up with her portfolio under her arm and began to stomp toward the pier. “When I get done with him, Rick Eckman is going to wish he was dead.”

Lindsey followed in her wake with a feeling of dread. Her own breakup with her fiancé had not been pretty, but at least he’d only cheated on her, not stolen her work. She had no idea how she would have handled it if he had, but she couldn’t blame Beth for being furious. She’d been working on that picture book for years, and for Rick to take it and submit it as his own was unconscionable.

Beth churned across the pavement, past the Blue Anchor and out to the tour-boat office. The dock was empty, meaning both Ian and Sully were out giving tours.

Ronnie Maynard, the tour coordinator, was in the little storefront office, sitting at her desk.

Beth slammed through the door. “I need a boat.”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Ronnie said as she lowered her nail file and glanced at the pair of them.

“Hi, Ronnie,” Lindsey said. “Don’t mind Beth, she’s a little upset.”

“A little upset?” Beth repeated. “I am more than a little upset. I am crazy mad. I need a boat, and I need it right now.”

“What happened, hon?” Ronnie asked. Her voice was kind, as if there wasn’t any trouble she hadn’t heard before that couldn’t be fixed by a sympathetic listener.

Beth took a deep breath and told her. Ronnie clucked in all the right places, calming Beth down with her genuine understanding.

Lindsey had gotten to know Ronnie over the past few months. She was a regular at the library and liked to check out the latest romance novels. She was a particular fan of Amanda Quick and Linda Howard.

If the term Sully had taught her was accurate, then Ronnie was one of the older Creekers, as she had to be about the same age as Milton, making her around eighty years old as well.

Looking at her, it was hard to tell. She wore her cranberryred hair in an updo reminiscent of a beehive. Huge neongreen plastic rings decorated her fingers, and she wore matching bauble earrings and a necklace. Her neck and face were wrinkled from years out in the sun, but she was fit, wearing khaki capri pants with Keds and a knitted sailor’s top. She favored green eye shadow and bright-pink lipstick, and she had a heavy hand with the foundation.

“So, that’s why I need to borrow a boat,” Beth said, finishing her monologue.

“Sully just took the water taxi out,” Ronnie said. “He’s picking up the Ginowskis on Split Island. Both Charlie and Ian are out on tours and not expected back until later today.”

“Could I rent a boat?” Beth asked.

“All I have left is a kayak,” Ronnie said.

“I’ll take it,” Beth said.

“No, you won’t,” Lindsey said. Enough was enough. It was time to rein her in before she got herself killed.

“Excuse me,” Beth said. “If I want a kayak, I’m taking a kayak.”

“You don’t even know how to kayak,” Lindsey said.

“Paddle right, paddle left; how hard can it be?”

“There are some pretty strong currents out there,” Ronnie said. “Besides, it’s high tide, the rocks are covered by water and you could smash up on one if you don’t know where they are.”

“See?” Lindsey asked. “Now you’re just going to have to calm down and wait. We can take the water taxi when it returns.”

“Fine,” Beth said but her cranky tone made it clear that it wasn’t.

The small office had a tiny waiting area made up of three deck chairs and a glass coffee table covered in boating magazines. Beth sat in one of the chairs and turned to stare out the window.

Lindsey blew out a breath. There were at least five hundred other things she’d rather be doing on her day off, but Beth was her best friend. She took a seat and picked up a magazine.

“You don’t have to go with me,” Beth said. “I can handle this on my own.”

“Normally, I would agree with you,” Lindsey said as she paused to sniff the cologne sample in the magazine. Too citrusy; why was men’s cologne always heavy on the citrus? “But given that you threatened to feed him to the sharks in front of a listening audience, I’m thinking I should be there.”

“Thanks,” Beth said. “You’re right. You may have to sit on me if he gets within punching distance.”

“Well, after I let you get in a few kidney shots, maybe,” Lindsey said.

Beth grinned, and Lindsey was pleased to see a glimmer of the old Beth sparkle in her eyes.

Forty minutes later, Sully arrived with the Ginowskis. They waved at Ronnie through the glass window and headed into town. Sully gave Lindsey a puzzled look as he entered the office.

She hadn’t seen him since Nancy’s bad spell the night before, and she wondered if he thought she was here because of that. His first words confirmed it.

“Is everything all right?” he asked. “Do you need Charlie?”

“No,” Lindsey said quickly. “Nancy’s fine. We’re here for a different reason.”

“I need a boat,” Beth said.

Sully glanced at Ronnie, and she shrugged. “We’re booked out.”

“Do you need a lift?” he asked. “I can take you in the water taxi.”

“That would be perfect,” Beth said. “I’ll double your rate.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sully said. “Where do you need to go?”

“Gull Island,” she said.

Sully’s eyebrows rose. He clapped a hand on the back of his neck. “You know that’s a private island. I’m not supposed to dock there without permission.”

“Just get me within swimming distance then,” Beth said, and she led the way out the door.

Sully glanced at Lindsey, and she said, “I’ll explain on the way.”

Beth was already sitting in the boat clutching her portfolio to her chest. It was a midsized inboard motorboat that had a canopy. Sully helped Lindsey step down into the boat, and he untied it from the dock, pushing off as he jumped in.

He turned the motor on low, and they puttered out past the end of the pier through the no wake zone toward the islands.

Lindsey sat in the seat beside Sully, who turned to her and asked, “So, what’s this all about?”

She gave him the short version.

“Suddenly, I’m not feeling so polite about not docking,” he said. He leaned close to Lindsey and lowered his voice and asked, “Did she know all this last night, when they had their tiff at the café?”

“No, we just found out this morning.”

They had motored out into the channel now, and Lindsey noticed he gave the engine more power, and a good-sized wake formed behind them. This was her first time out on the water, and she reveled in the fresh, cool spray against her face and the wind tugging at her hair.

They rounded a small cluster of islands. The first one had a large granite boulder jutting up that indeed looked like a big thumb, thus, the name of the islands. A bit farther was a flatter one that had a small house perched on it, and then several others that barely qualified as more than rocks. Depending upon who you asked, there were either seventy islands out here or more than a hundred. Sometimes the rocks counted and sometimes they did not.

Lindsey had read up on the history of the Thumb Islands and knew that the archipelago had formed thousands of years before during an ice age. They passed by another large island, and an older woman with short gray hair, wearing an apron and carrying pruning shears, waved at them as they passed. Sully waved and grinned back at her.

“My mom,” he said. “That’s where I grew up, on Bell Island.”

Lindsey studied it as they passed. Sure enough, a large granite boulder on the east side of the island looked like an enormous bell. The island had three large houses on it with large lawns that were turning brown with the coming winter and tall trees whose leaves had turned and were beginning to fall. It looked like an idyllic place to spend a childhood.

“How big is it?” she asked.

“Almost ten acres,” he said. “It’s the second largest island out here.”

They headed farther out into the Sound. The waves got choppy, and their boat slapped hard against the water until Sully slowed it down. They passed several hazardous-looking rocks, a few small uninhabited islands and then a series of islands where the houses looked like charming summer getaways.

Lindsey could see the appeal to having your own island. No door-to-door salesmen, no traffic, no home-owner’s associations. If you wanted to be left alone, an island was a good way to go.

The boat took a wide turn around one island. Wider than Sully had swung around other islands. She glanced over the side to see if there were rocks they were avoiding, but she couldn’t make out any in the water’s rocky depths.

She glanced at Sully and saw him studying the island as they passed. It was then that she realized that this one looked to have been burned. The skeletons of charred tree trunks stood sentry around the shell of a stone cottage, which was roofless and blackened by fire.

“What happened there?” she asked.

“Lightning strike,” Beth said.

Lindsey glanced at Sully for confirmation. She noticed he shifted in his seat, and she narrowed her gaze.

“Lightning didn’t do that, did it?”

He turned and studied her for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. “No, it didn’t.”

“W
hat?” Beth gasped. “But in all of the books about the islands, it says that it was the storm of 1983. There was record lightning, and one of the bolts hit the Ruby house, burning down the house and killing the family, who were asleep and trapped inside.”

“That’s what the books say,” Sully agreed. “But they never explain why the body of Peter Ruby wasn’t among the rest.”

“Who’s Peter Ruby?” Lindsey asked.

“The father,” Sully said. He didn’t go into details, but he didn’t have to, Lindsey could tell by his tone that he hadn’t liked the man.

“The speculation is that he tried to swim for help and perished,” Beth said.

“Does that seem likely?” Sully asked. “You’re in the middle of one of the worst storms to hit the islands, your house has been hit by lightning and you swim for help? Wouldn’t you try to get your family out first?”

“Well, yeah,” she said.

“Mary and I were friends with the Ruby kids, as they were just a few years younger than us. There was something not right in that house. Neither of us ever believed that Peter Ruby died trying to save his family.”

“Do you think he killed them and used the storm as cover to escape?” Lindsey asked. They were passing the island, and she turned to study the remnants of the burnt house and scorched lives.

“That’s exactly what I think,” Sully said. His voice was grim, and it gave Lindsey the shivers.

“Then why . . . ?” Beth asked, looking as disturbed as Lindsey felt.

“It was twenty-eight years ago. People don’t talk about it,” Sully said, correctly interpreting her expression. “Mostly because it is so horrible, but also the local businesses don’t want to scare off the tourists.”

“Does anyone ever go there?” Lindsey asked.

“No, the structure is too dangerous to wander around, and because of the deaths, no one has been eager to buy it and rebuild.”

“That’s a shame,” Lindsey said. “It’s a lovely spot.”

“You should have seen it in the day,” Sully said. “Mrs. Ruby planted climbing roses, and they all but took over the island. Mary and I used to pretend it was enchanted.”

“Why did you tell us this?” Beth asked. “I mean, I’ve lived here for ten years and no one has told me that story.”

“Well, you two are the town librarians; if anyone should know the true history of the Ruby house, it’s you two,” he said. “Who knows—maybe you’ll solve the mystery.”

“I think that’s Chief Daniels’s job,” Beth said.

“But thanks for telling the truth,” Lindsey said. She was glad he trusted them enough to tell them the real story, but still, she felt better when the island was behind them. Maybe it was an overactive imagination on her part, but she could swear she felt malevolence pulsing off of the island and pushing against the waves that splashed against its shores.

They were silent as Sully navigated a few more islands, slowing down as he approached one that was small in size and had only one house on it. Sully cut the engine and coasted up against the wooden dock that floated out from the island. One of the pilings was carved into the shape of a seagull, thus the name Gull Island, Lindsey presumed. Rick’s boat was there, signifying that he was home.

Beth handed Lindsey her portfolio and hopped onto the edge of the boat. She nimbly jumped onto the dock, taking the boat’s rope with her. She swiftly tied the boat up and reached out a hand to take her artwork back from Lindsey.

Lindsey scrambled over the side and caught the edge of the boat with her hand as the dock bobbed and weaved beneath her feet. She steadied herself and took a few steps forward, relieved when she kept her balance.

“Are you ready?” she asked Beth.

“I want to face him alone.”

“But I thought you wanted backup, in case you felt the urge to put a hurt on him,” Lindsey said.

“I want him to talk to me. I want him to explain this.” Beth held up the page of the catalog. “And I don’t think he’ll talk in front of an audience.”

“You’re sure?”

Beth grimaced, but she looked determined. She gave Lindsey a nod and turned toward the stairs, which led from the dock up the short hill to a deck above.

“I guess we wait,” Lindsey said.

Sully stepped out of the boat with two bottles of water in his hands. He gave one to Lindsey and they sat on the bobbing dock with the island to their backs and facing the shoreline they’d left behind.

“Think he’ll tell her the truth?” he asked.

Lindsey took a long pull off of her water bottle and thought about Rick. From what she knew of him, he was the type of person who in his opinion never erred. Even with evidence shoved under his nose, he would be unlikely to admit to any wrongdoing.